Rumor Has It
by ingrid-matthews
Summary: They'll talk about it later, in the hallway, in whispers, but for now, they say nothing and go back to work. [pre Taking A Break]


Title: Rumor Has It

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: For Season Three. Takes place before _"Taking A Break..."_

Summary: _They'll talk about it later, in the hallway, in whispers, but for now, they say nothing and go back to work_.

**Rumor Has It  
by ingrid**

0o0o0o

She waits for him by the sixth level hatch, arms crossed, her lower lip bit inwardly in the tiniest way. He glances around before walking up to her and raising his eyebrows in question.

He doesn't have to ask anything, she knows what he wants. Not that she'll give it up that easily, of course.

"What?" Dee asks, her voice strained with laughter. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Felix keeps staring. "Tell me."

Dee shrugs. It's a half-hearted gesture, as if she's trying not to dislodge the angel _or_ the devil from the shoulders where they sit, no doubt whispering in each ear. "I'm not sure why you think I have anything to tell you, Mister Gaeta."

Dragging out the 's' in "Mister" and her eyes are watering with mirth.

"Fine," he replies with a shrug of his own. Two can play at this game -- that's what makes it so much fun. "You don't have to tell me anything. In fact, Lt. Dualla ..." Stretches out the "duuuu" and affects not to give a damn. "I'm sure it's nothing I don't already know."

That's where she breaks. Her shoulders are shaking, she's practically in tears. "Why? Do you have a _special_ rash too?"

Gaeta's mouth drops. "Holy ... who got it?"

"Half the pilots," she squeaks, unable to contain herself any longer. "They're trying to hazmat the showers as we speak."

"Oh my gods," he says, shocked. Well, not that shocked, but oh, so very shocked. "Who got it first? No, wait, who has it now, that's even more important."

"It supposedly started with a certain Hot Dog."

Now she's really laughing, and he tries to shush her with a finger against her lips, frantically looking around, but at the same time, unable to stop his own laughter. "And now it's in a whole lotta buns," she finishes with a gasp and they nearly collapse against the hatch, cackling wildly.

"Shhh, shhh, shhh," he begs breathlessly as she giggles under his palm, now firmly placed over her mouth. Finally, she calms down and they both get a chance to wipe their eyes.

"Oh, gods," he wheezes. "Thank you for that information. Now I know who to avoid."

She gives him _that_ look, the one only she can give him. "Don't you need to get laid before you start worrying about these things?"

He deflates slightly. "Well ... yeah." He brightens a little. "At least I can cross Hot Dog off my list of potentials."

They begin their walk together toward the Admiral's quarters for the daily briefing and she makes a face at him. "Please don't tell me he was ever on that list. I seriously do not want to hear that."

He returns a salute from someone neither one of them knows, even after all this time. "Sure was. Want to know who else is on that list?"

"No," she replies immediately, straightening out her cuffs as they come to a stop in front of the Admiral's door.

"I'll just give you one name." He knocks on the door smartly before leaning in to whisper in her ear. The door opens suddenly, revealing Colonel Tigh's scowling glare at the very second she looks up at Gaeta and bursts into: "Ewwww! Not him!"

Tigh's cheeks turn scarlet with annoyance. Gaeta immediately straightens up and salutes, as Dee startles, trying her best to follow suit.

"You're both late," Tigh snarls, even though they aren't. "Get in here."

"Yes, sir," Gaeta replies smartly, with only the tiniest smirk edged toward Dee.

A covert glance is given back.

Oh, she is _so_ going to get him later.

0o0o0o

Joe's bar is quieter than usual, with both tables and bar stools available. Dee glances around until she sees Felix's familiar slouch. She knows it's him, even though his back is turned and he's hunched over his glass, trying to be as anti-social as his generally open demeanor will allow.

Sidling up, she pokes at his shoulder. "Buy a girl a drink, sailor?"

He quickly straightens, revealing there's a glass already waiting for her on the other side of the table. There's a cigarette burning between his fingers he tamps out, knowing she doesn't like the smoke. "You betcha."

She takes her chair with a grin and picks up the glass. "What, no cherries?" she exclaims, examining her drink critically. "I told you I wanted cherries."

"Oh, sorry. Here you go." Blandly, and he makes a move to drop his cigarette butt in, but she pulls her glass away, grinning as she takes a long, welcome drink. "So ..." he asks, "Where's the frak? I mean, The CAG?"

Dee's expression sours. She doesn't mean it to, but it does. "I don't know. Somewhere. Not here."

Felix immediately changes the subject. He nods toward the mini-Pyramid game, where some other CIC officers are hanging out, playing the game hard, as if their lives depend on it. "Check out Kelly over there. He's lost so much weight he has to hold his pants up with a cable." He sniffs before taking a sip. "You'd think he'd learn how to sew."

Dee examines him over the rim of her glass. "Do _you_ know how to sew?"

"Of course," Felix exclaims, as if that's the stupidest question in the universe.

"I swear you're turning into my grandmother," Dee sighs, jumping away from a light kick to her ankle. "Ow, you bastard."

"See, your problem is that you think you've got something on me with this Lieutenant thing you have now, but in truth ..."

Behind him, the bartender turns the wireless up and a loud, fast song comes over the speakers, perking Gaeta up, making him lose his train of thought. Delighted, he turns to Dee, his usually sleepy eyes suddenly bright. "Oooh. Do you hear that? Let's dance."

"Do I have to?" she whines, but she allows him to drag her onto the dance floor anyway.

Technically, he's a terrible dancer, but makes up in enthusiasm for what he lacks in technique and soon she's twirling and giggling. He's making all sorts of ridiculous faces that she'll make fun out of him for later, but neither one of them cares -- not even when he whirls her right into Starbuck's table, overturning her drink.

The look they get is a deadly one, but Felix tugs Dee back into another breathless turn in the opposite direction and they are laughing, eyes filled with light, even as the world around them seems shrouded in darkness. The song ends too soon and he pouts as they slog back to their seats, oblivious to the irritated stares left in their wake.

"I hate this place," Felix says casually, tapping another hand-rolled cigarette against the back of his hand, but he makes no move to light it.

"Me too," she agrees, tucking her hand into his jacket pocket and retrieving his matches for him. She holds out the folded pack. "Here you go."

He gives her a questioning look.

She shrugs and strikes a match for him. "Pals put up with other pals bad habits," she explains, as he puffs the smoke to life. She tilts her head back toward the bar where a knot of pilots are trying to out drink each other into oblivion. "Speaking of bad habits, is that Skulls two-fisting it again? I thought he was on no-fly for intoxication violations."

"So did I," Felix replies, staring at the tall man standing at the bar, his interest piqued. She tries not to roll her eyes as he gives Skulls' rippling muscles an obviously appreciative once-over. "Maybe I should reprimand him. Privately."

"Great. Between a drunk and a guy with a rash, your love life is just taking off, isn't it?"

Another person might have been annoyed, but Gaeta only grins at her. "Jealous?"

Her jaw drops. She tries her hardest to look scandalized. "Of what?"

"I dunno," he shrugs innocently. "You seem nervous that I might actually get some. Someday." He chuckles through the little cloud of smoke circling his eyes.

Dee folds her hands. Leans back and regards him carefully. "Concerned is more like it. You ... " She pauses, parsing her words. "Have ... unusual taste. And I just want to make sure you're with someone who ... " She makes an impatient gesture. "You know, deserves you."

She's not sure what response she was expecting, but a loud snort definitely wasn't it. "Deserves me, huh?" Felix takes an effortless drag on his cigarette and Dee is disturbed to see how easy smoking is coming to him these days. It's yet another little bit of his innocence falling away, but then again, who is she to talk about lost innocence? "That must be why I never get any ... no one deserves me." He lifts his ambrosia and drains it dry. "I'll drink to that."

A thick layer of bitterness there, and Dee clutches helplessly at her drink. "You know that's not what I meant."

He shrugs. "Forget it, Dee." An approximation of a smile curves his lips. The subject is changed yet again. "Did you know what I heard today? About our fearless President?"

His hand has snuck across the table and his fingers are pulling mischievously at her thumb, maybe to annoy, maybe not. She pinches him back. "What did you hear? And if it's some sordid story about her and the Admiral ..."

Gaeta leans in close, his grin loopy. "Even better. Do you know her aide? Gory or Lory or whatever her name is?"

"Tory. Yes, I've heard of her."

"She tried to get the Six model we have in the brig "accidentally" tossed out the airlock -- minus permission."

Something in Dee's throat tightens. Gods, what a frakked up 'world' they live in. "And?"

"It didn't happen. But Roslin found out and cracked her one, right across the face." Felix snickers, his face warm from the booze, the formerly gentle smile turning predator sharp. "Seems like she's the only one allowed to toss people out the vents."

"Good for her," Dee says, after a little while, when the lump in her throat loosens. "We aren't savages. We'll turn into them if that sort of thing is allowed."

"You think we'll all become Cylons one day?" he asks. A terrible numbness fills his eyes. "Gods forbid, eh?"

Overhead, another fast song fills the room, in sweet, loud, thumping rhythms. "Do you want to dance?" she asks hastily, with an edge of desperation that she wonders if he can hear, but of course he can -- she knows that much at least.

He doesn't answer, but takes her hand silently. Once up and about, they are twirling again and Dee concentrates on their footsteps to the exclusion of all else.

No drinks are spilled this time -- the bar is nearly empty -- but they dance as if the entire universe is at stake and maybe it is, in ways neither can understand.

The music stops and they return to their drinks, not saying much, but neither of them leave.

Together in silence, it seems, is better than anything done alone.

0o0o0o

There's an action station call the next day. They've stumbled across what looks like a crippled basestar after a jump and Tigh thinks it's just bad luck -- for the Cylons as well as the _Galactica _-- but Gaeta knows the Cylons aren't great believers in chance. This is a trap, a nasty one and the Old Man isn't in the CIC yet and gods ...

He glances over at Dee. Her eyes are huge as Tigh hesitates about what course of action to take. "Five Raiders in random flight," she says carefully.

Tigh's single eye examines the DRADIS. "Huh. They're just flopping around out there, aren't they?"

Very slowly, the Raiders begin to circle in a more deliberate way. Dee expression crosses from exasperated to frightened and she turns to Felix in a silent panic.

For a second, their eyes meet, and that's long enough. "Waiting for jump instructions, sir," Gaeta says edgily.

Tigh is still not up to speed. "Eh ... wait a minute, Lieutenant. Let's see what they're up to."

Dee cuts in sharply. "Raiders pattern is regulating, sir."

Gaeta adds his voice. "Jump instructions, sir?"

Tigh seems lost in thought and Gaeta nods frantically at Dee. Her finger is already on the key box, and Felix knows she's entered the codes at least thirty seconds before. That's why when the Colonel _finally_ gives the order to jump, they are away, instead of dead and Gaeta has to catch his breath over the console, wishing he could strangle the old fool.

Dee's forehead is bathed in sweat and he gives her a silent 'well done' behind Tigh's back.

She only shakes her head. Yet another call too close for comfort. Gaeta doesn't like it either, but this seems to be their shared lot in life -- babysitters of a man who should know better, at least for the position he holds.

They'll talk about it later, in the hallway, in whispers, but for now, they say nothing and go back to work.

It's the only way they know.

0o0o0o

"She is _not_ sleeping with him."

"Okay, she's not sleeping with him. But she is frakking him."

"Felix, I swear to the gods, you are making all this up in your perverted head ..."

They are gossiping over their paperwork, in quiet, rational voices that would suggest to anyone passing they were discussing CIC business or something else equally important. It's an art form they've perfected over the years, passing the scuttlebutt back and forth, keeping each other sane in a universe where nothing actually means very much anymore.

It's their way and theirs alone and when someone else tries to edge in on the news, Dee is always amused to see Felix's 'officer of the watch' face drop down -- turning him as cool and inaccessible as an iceberg in an ocean.

The interloper slinks away, and Felix turns back to Dee to continue the conversation exactly where they left off, usually smack in the middle of some poor, unsuspecting person's private life.

"Supposedly," he says, handing her fuel reports neither one of them bother looking at. "He's has a side business making homemade sex toys. Doing very well at it, I hear."

She makes a horrible face in spite of herself. "Making them out of _what_?"

Felix's shrug is delightfully exaggerated. "I dunno. Why, you don't think I own any of these interesting items, do you?" He pauses, just long enough. "It looks like silicone, but I'd have to get confirmation from the Chief to be sure."

Covering her eyes, she starts to laugh. "Oh, gods. You are really starting to orbit Planet Too Much Information, my friend."

Leaning on the console, he starts to play with her pen, scribbling little stick figures on her report, many of them doing questionable things to one another. "Did you know that the Pegasus data bank had no porn, except for one piece I found later -- after the death of a certain crazy Admiral? And it was _dirty_. Who knew she had a thing for girls having sex while wearing prison uniforms, may the gods rest her, of course."

"Okay, go away now," Dee says, shoving at him, as he laughs. "No, seriously, get lost. And take your dirty drawings and your dirty mouth and your dirty mind ..."

"You love my dirty mind," he protests, even as she tosses balled up papers at him, which he lets bounce off his chest. "You crave my dirty mind. I'm telling you, you and me and a couple of those 'items', minus your husband who'd kill me and we'd have ..."

"Go. Away," she interrupts with finality and he does, leaving her smiling.

It's strange, but lately, he's the only person who can get a smile out of her these days.

She can't help but wonder why that is.

0o0o0o

It's a short time later when the Admiral comes up to her, with Tigh in tow. He's her father-in-law, but still as distant as ever and when he motions her aside, she stays on alert, a sunny, not-exactly-real smile firmly held in place.

"You're friends with Lieutenant Gaeta, aren't you?" he asks, his eyes searching behind those glasses she never sees him without.

Her smile tightens incrementally. "Yes, sir. For many years now."

"I hope you don't mind if I ask you your opinion on his mental state, off the record. How does he look to you? Does he seem all right?"

Every wall Dee possesses slams up and around her. "Beyond the stress we're all feeling, sir, Lieutenant Gaeta's mental state seems the same as it's always been. He's alert, highly competent, good-natured ... I see nothing wrong with him at all."

Tigh's face curves into a jackals' grin. "And if anything happened to change that assessment, I'm sure you'd never tell us, would you, Lieutenant Dualla?"

_No, I never would tell you a thing about him, you drunken, murderous frak_. Dee's eyes widen to their full innocence. "I'm not sure what you mean by that, sir."

Adama slides Tigh a silencing glance. "Thank you, Dee. That will be all."

"Thank you, sir." Dee scoops up her papers and walks away as quickly as she can, leaving them to stare after her.

_This place can go to hells_, she thinks, angry enough to want to hit something. _These people make me miserable_. Except ...

Except for Felix.

0o0o0o

When Lee nods hello at him in the mess, Gaeta's a bit surprised. Even more so when the CAG pulls him aside, his handsome face contorted with uncertainty. "Could I ask you a quick question? It's about Dee ..."

"Of course," Gaeta replies, politely, but he can't hide the ironclad guard that suddenly falls over his features. "What about her?"

Lee hesitates. "Has she mentioned anything about, I dunno ... " A weak laugh. "About us? Or, you know, anything to that effect. Because she's been sort of quiet lately and you know, sometimes the husband doesn't always get the full story."

_How could she be all right, you cheating scumbag?_ Gaeta breathes in quietly and shrugs. "Dee seems fine to me. But, then again, I'm just her friend. Her husband should be the one to talk to her about these things. Is there anything in particular you're worried about?"

"No, no, nothing," Lee replies quickly, running a nervous hand through his hair. "It's just ..." He exhales. "You're a good friend to her, Felix. I hope you'll always stay one."

Gaeta can feel his teeth grind, but he forces his jaw to relax. "Why wouldn't I?"

Somehow, Lee seems to get the undercurrent of his tone and his grin turns wry."You feel kind of protective over her, huh?"

"A little," Gaeta replies and turns back to stirring his coffee or whatever the sludge is that they are passing off as coffee these days. He shows Lee a brittle grin. "And now, Major, it's back to the daily grind. Good hunting, sir."

Lee nods with calm understanding. "Same to you, Felix."

As Felix leaves the mess, he notices the glances exchanged by Lee and Starbuck. They are a lot like the ones he and Dee exchange, and for some reason that makes him angrier than he thought possible.

_I hate this place, _he thinks, fist tightening around the paper cup until it threatens to fold. He wants to care, is pretty sure he can't and gods, it can all go to hells. Except ...

Except for Dee.

0o0o0o

"Did you hear about Racetrack's run-in with the last batch of nuggets?"

Dee looks up from the dish she's sharing with Felix and shakes her head. Somehow, he's gotten ahold of a small box of crackers, formerly frozen and an actual piece of cheese that wasn't molded to the point of no return. These two items are worth their weight in jewels, but he unveiled them for sharing with nothing more than a wink and a bottle of hooch on the side.

"Did they ever find the bodies?" she asks, savoring every crumb.

Felix chuckles. "They lived, but probably regretted it. Even Racetrack knows we can't just kill 'em anymore."

Joe's bar is quiet again tonight. Even the bartender looks sleepy as he wipes aimlessly at the already clean glasses. The music is very low and Dee glances up at the speakers with a smile. "Oh, I love this song. Let's dance."

Felix squints at the wireless player. "I can barely hear anything. I like loud music."

"Yes, I know," she replies, tugging him up to the empty floor without too much effort. "Loud and fast."

"It covers many sins," he explains, awkwardly accepting her close dance hold. "You might not have noticed this, but I'm not a very good dancer."

"You don't say," she laughs, settling in and ignoring his repeated treading on her toes. It's calming and everything seems all right, until ...

"The Admiral wants me to help interrogate Baltar tomorrow," Felix blurts out. "They think he'll confess to me. Because he trusts me."

Dee's breath catches. "Oh." Hastily, she clears her throat. "I'm sure it'll go fine."

"Yeah." The song on the wireless drones on and they are barely dancing anymore, just swaying in place. "So. When are you and the husband going out for a nice meal?"

"Tomorrow," she says. "He, um, says he wants to have a talk."

Felix stiffens a little in her arms. "Oh. Well, that's a good thing, right?"

"I hope so," she replies softly. Gamely, she looks up and smiles. "I'm sure it is."

The song ends. They're left standing alone on the floor, no longer pretending to dance, but simply holding each other, clinging on as if the world is about to fall away and there is nothing -- and no one -- else to grasp onto.

"It's going to be okay," Dee repeats, whether trying to convince him or herself, she's not sure. "Really."

"I believe you," he replies. His fingers close around hers. They're surprisingly cold. "Now, did I tell you about Helo's ex-girlfriend?"

The wireless starts up again, the bar filling up a bit more as it does and she listens to him talk, losing herself in stories that don't mean anything, in empty lives that have more in common with her own than she'd like to admit and to his voice, which is the one thing she's really holding onto, in spite of it all.

Rumor has it that it's the same for him and this is one rumor she knows to be true.

0o0o0o

end

Reviews are welcome. Thanks for reading.


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